


Sights On Someone Else

by connerluthorkent



Category: Gotham (TV)
Genre: Canon Compliant, Fluff, Jealousy, Kissing, Love Confessions, M/M, Post-Episode: s05e11 They Did What?, Pre-Episode: s05e12 The Beginning..., Season/Series 05, Tooth-Rotting Fluff, dealer's canon compliance, if you want it to be, meaning you can ignore the finale if you wish
Language: English
Status: Completed
Published: 2019-10-26
Updated: 2019-10-26
Packaged: 2021-01-03 12:05:04
Rating: General Audiences
Warnings: No Archive Warnings Apply
Chapters: 1
Words: 2,069
Publisher: archiveofourown.org
Story URL: https://archiveofourown.org/works/21179132
Author URL: https://archiveofourown.org/users/connerluthorkent/pseuds/connerluthorkent
Summary: During a night out at the Sirens, Oswald is forced to watch Ed become the object of a stranger’s attentions. But Ed’s reaction might just surprise him…





	Sights On Someone Else

**Author's Note:**

> This is short, silly, and schmoopy, and I am not sorry.
> 
> Unbeta'ed, as always, so all mistakes are mine.
> 
> I do not consent to my work being hosted on any unofficial apps.

Ed is at the bar getting them drinks—scotch for Oswald, and one of those unsightly green eyesores Ed insists upon ordering every time he’s out in public for himself, much to Oswald’s chagrin. While Ed leans his long body across the bar top, no doubt inciting Barbara’s ire with some snide comment based on the glare she’s shooting him, Oswald remains tucked away in a booth in the corner, surveying the night’s clientele. In spite of Barbara’s vow to Jim to reform her ways, the Sirens Club remains the central hub for information in post-reunification Gotham City. Ed and he had staked the club out for the evening, electing to gather intel in the wake of the devastating loss of their amassed treasure and most of their possessions when Nyssa al Ghul made off with their submarine. There were alliances to be made, debts to be collected, contracts to be brokered. The desperate and criminally-inclined patrons that the Sirens attracted offered a wealth of opportunities to be exploited, if one simply knew where to look. 

Oswald glances back to the bar, curious to see if Ed has been delayed by striking up a conversation with a potential goon for hire. His eyes find Ed immediately, his shining green suit making it nigh impossible to lose him in a crowd. A blessing and a curse depending on the circumstance. A curse it seems, in that moment, as the sight Oswald finds makes his mouth go dry.

There is a tall, curvaceous woman leaning against the bar at Ed’s elbow, one delicate hand placed lightly over his wrist. She’s wearing a knee-length baby doll dress only a shade or two off from Ed’s suit. A shock of long, bright red hair spills down one of her shoulders. Oswald is reminded hauntingly of that deranged fangirl who had stolen Ed from the ice, back when the Sirens Club had still been the Iceberg Lounge. 

Ed says something, and the woman throws her head back in a laugh, subtly leaning in closer as she continues to clutch at his arm.

Ed gives her a parting nod and a smile, disengaging his arm before weaving his way back to the booth, scotch and grasshopper in hand. 

“Apologies for the delay,” Ed says, placing Oswald’s scotch in front of him and sliding into the booth beside him, “the bar was absolutely packed. But, good news for us, right? Plenty of fish, as it were.”

Ed shoots him that familiar Cheshire grin of his, and Oswald feels a pang in his rib cage. 

He takes a steadying breath through his nose. He knew the risk when renewing his partnership with Ed that he would end up right back where he started—miserable, jealous, and alone once more when Ed found someone he deemed more worthy of his time. Or, worse still, stuck watching Ed fall in love all over again while he stood helplessly by his side, forced to play the role of supportive platonic best friend if he didn’t want to ruin any chance they had of holding onto their tentative renewed friendship. A never-ending, agonizing loop Oswald had no hope of escaping.

Oswald takes a measured sip of his scotch, trying to maintain an unaffected air.

“That woman was flirting with you.” 

Ed’s brow furrows in confusion, turning to squint skeptically back at the bar. The woman in question immediately catches his eye, giving him a coquettish wave. 

“...Do you really think so?” he asks, an uncertain air in his voice as he turns back to Oswald.

Oswald purses his lips, giving Ed a knowing look. 

“I can say with some certainty, yes, she most assuredly was.” 

“Well,” Ed says, taking a sip of his grasshopper as he sinks back into the booth, “that’s unfortunate for her.”

“Oh?”

“I’m not interested,” Ed says with a finality that takes Oswald aback. 

“No?”

“Decidedly not.” 

“Given up on love, have we?” Oswald asks, voice too light.

And, honestly, if that were the case, Oswald couldn’t say he blamed Ed. Neither of them had exactly been lucky in love. The thought that Ed might have given up on the whole endeavor fills Oswald with a simultaneous sense of relief and bittersweet disappointment. 

He can all but hear Ed’s voice in his head, an echo from so long ago. _For some men, love is a source of strength. But for you and I, it will always be our most crippling weakness._

“...I didn’t say that.”

Ed’s impassive, precise tone has changed to something hesitant, almost...soft. 

“...oh?” 

Oswald’s voice is mildly choked, trying to repress any hint of emotion.

“I have my sights set on someone else, I’m afraid.” 

Ed glances at Oswald expectantly. 

“Is that so?”

If it’s Leslie Thompkins, so help him, he will hardly be able to restrain himself from gutting Ed on the spot…

“But I haven’t yet determined how he feels.”

Now Oswald is choking.

“_He_?” he gasps, unable to keep the disbelief out of his voice. 

_He_? But who could that—Ed couldn’t possibly mean—

Ed’s voice from long ago suddenly rises up in his mind, unbidden.

_You want to know why I could never love someone like you, Oswald?_

Oswald swallows, hard and painful, the memory of Ed’s cold, sardonic words echoing in his head. A sobering reminder to himself, not to foolishly waste his hopes on things that can never be. He takes a deep, steadying breath. 

“He, indeed,” Ed says, the corners of his mouth quirking up slightly, almost smug. 

Oswald flinches at the expression. He had been prepared to lose Ed to another woman, but to lose him to a _man_ is—well, painful isn’t a strong enough word. Oswald doesn’t think he can stand it, if Ed’s decided to mock him, or to gloat about it, about how he could never love Oswald. 

"However, I’m not sure he feels the same,” Ed says, angling his body towards Oswald, “because every time I try to bring it up, he brushes me aside."

Oswald furrows his brow.

“Why—” he swallows, afraid to continue, “why would he do that?”

Ed winces, a pained expression coming over his face.

“I think,” Ed says slowly, “he’s afraid of getting hurt again.” 

Oswald draws in a sharp breath, unconsciously holding it, trying to contain the sudden hopeful pang in his chest.

“You see,” he goes on, “he did love me, once. But there’s been a lot of bad blood between us since then. He hurt me, very badly, in the name of his love, out of jealousy. But then, I hurt him, too. Again and again.”

Oswald’s heartbeat ratchets up as Ed peers at him with those dark, piercing eyes. 

“And even though our friendship has been renewed,” Ed gives Oswald a meaningful glance, voice shaky, “after everything that’s happened between us, I don’t know if he could ever love me again.”

Oswald instinctively places his hand over Ed’s. 

Ed looks up at him, tentative. 

“Who said he ever stopped?” Oswald asks, his own voice trembling as he bites back the tears that have suddenly sprung to the corners of his eyes.

It’s Ed’s turn to look disbelieving, turning his palm up to grip Oswald’s urgently. 

“He...he didn’t?”

Oswald shakes his head.

“He wanted to, so, so badly, but...he couldn’t,” Oswald admits. 

Ed’s grip on his hand tightens.

“After all, as my mother used to say, ‘life only gives you one true love, Oswald,’” Oswald quotes, giving Ed an uncertain smile, “and, as with so many things, she was right.” 

He can feel Ed’s eyes on the side of his face, attention rapt. Oswald squeezes Ed’s hand, steadying himself. 

“Life gave me you.” 

Ed’s face is there, suddenly, wide brown eyes looking almost comically large behind his glasses as he presses Oswald backward into the booth, capturing his lips in a kiss. Ed kisses Oswald like he’s drowning and Oswald is his only source of oxygen, gloved hands coming up to cup Oswald’s jaw and roughly hold his face in place. 

Oswald whimpers into his mouth, helplessly wrapping his arms around Ed’s shoulders. Some distant part of his mind is snapping at him that they are making an absolute spectacle of themselves in front of a swath of potential allies, making out like drunken strangers in a shadowy back corner booth. But he can’t find it in himself to give a good goddamn. 

Ed finally pulls away, forced to come up for air, but he continues nuzzling against the side of Oswald’s face.

“I suppose,” Oswald muses, still breathless at Ed’s lips against his skin, “I should thank that hussy at the bar for hitting on you.” 

“Oh,” Ed pulls back to look at Oswald, eyes sparkling with mirth, “did you think I meant _you_? I was talking about Lucius Fox.”

“Edward,” Oswald says, a dangerous warning in his voice, “I _will_ kill you.”

Ed presses a teasing kiss to the corner of Oswald’s mouth.

“I’m not worried,” he says, “I know you’d get lonely and just bring me back.”

Oswald huffs, crossing his arms across his chest like a petulant child. He doesn’t have a good comeback for that one, because he knows it’s true. 

“You’re going to be absolutely _insufferable_ now, aren’t you?”

“No more than usual,” Ed says, kissing Oswald’s neck, “but you wouldn’t have me any other way.”

“No,” Oswald admits, and he knows his expression is embarrassingly soppy, “I wouldn’t.”

Oswald eyes the clean lines of Ed’s suit absentmindedly, shuddering as Ed nips at his ear. 

“Though I can think of several ways I’d like to have you once we get out of this booth.”

“Mr. Penguin,” Ed admonishes, placing an astonished hand against his chest as he gives Oswald a sly grin, “are you propositioning me?”

Oswald can feel his face heating up under Ed’s suddenly smoldering gaze. Ed flashes him a toothy grin, eyes still bright and sharp, looking entirely too pleased with himself for causing the formidable Penguin to blush.

“Oswald,” Ed says, squeezing his hand, his expression sobering slightly, “Riddle me this. I hurt the most when lost, yet also when not had at all. I'm sometimes the hardest to express, but the easiest to ignore. I can be given to many, or just one. What am I?”

Oswald pauses for a moment, contemplative.

“'Worthless to one,'” Oswald quotes hesitantly, “'but priceless to two'?”

Ed nods, biting his lip as he smiles. 

“I know it’s not the original,” Ed says apologetically, “but I thought perhaps something a little more...melancholy suited us, after all this time.”

Oswald returns his smile, knowing and bittersweet. 

“And all jokes aside, I wanted to be clear,” Ed continues, “that the feeling is mutual.”

“Well, I had _hoped_, given the evidence,” Oswald shrugs, light and self-deprecating, trying to keep the tremor out of his voice.

“It is,” Ed says with conviction, dark eyes boring into Oswald’s, “I love you, Oswald.”

It takes all the air out of his lungs, to finally hear Ed say it after all this time.

“I love you, too, Ed,” Oswald says, voice cracking on Ed’s name.

Ed kisses him again, eager and all-consuming, and Oswald melts against his chest, sighing helplessly into Ed’s mouth. 

Oswald keens in protest as Ed pulls away, though he’s somewhat placated as Ed traces his lips over his cheek, leaning forward to whisper in his ear.

“Take me home?” 

Oswald shivers at Ed’s voice, low and smooth, laced with a thousand unspoken promises as he leans back to peer at Oswald expectantly.

“Of course,” Oswald says in a rush, impatiently waving Ed out of the booth. 

Ed slides to a stand in one smooth motion and then offers Oswald his hand, the pair practically tripping over themselves as they head impatiently for the exit. Oswald can’t resist the mocking, coy little wave he throws to the woman at the bar, who’s watching them cross the room arm-in-arm with a gobsmacked expression. Behind her, Oswald can see Barbara smirking knowingly. 

“Now who’s being insufferable?” Ed leans down and murmurs into Oswald’s ear, but his voice is laced with fondness.

“I believe I’ve more than earned the right,” Oswald simpers, giving Ed a challenging look.

“That you have. Besides,” Ed says, pressing a kiss to Oswald’s knuckles as he eagerly tugs him out the door and into the cool Gotham night, “_I_ wouldn’t have _you_ any other way.”

**Author's Note:**

> Ed's love riddle comes from riddles.com. A little strange not to go with the traditional Nygmobblepot love riddle from the show, but I wanted to mix things up a bit and loved the wistful edge this one had.


End file.
